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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183709">Funny Tasting Tacos</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aztecl/pseuds/Aztecl'>Aztecl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020: Natasha Romanoff [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Is Sleep Deprived, Avengers Family, Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Crack, Crack and Angst, Gen, Missions Gone Wrong, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Poison, Whump, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:20:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183709</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aztecl/pseuds/Aztecl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>WHUMPTOBER NO. 22 - DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU?<br/>Poisoned, Drugged</p><p>**This ended up being kinda crack. Sorry.**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton &amp; Avengers Team, Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov &amp; Avengers Team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020: Natasha Romanoff [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Funny Tasting Tacos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'll admit it: this is not my best work. I'm also getting behind on my Whumptober, so I'll probably try and write faster and add more whump. Sorry.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clint eyed the fallen hostiles around him, smirking in triumph. One person lifted their head, nose bleeding, and Clint simply kicked him down again. "Ha."</p><p>Rolling her eyes, Natasha put her gun back into its holster on her cat-suit. "Well, I guess this means mission accomplished."</p><p>He snorted. "Only two days ahead of schedule, too."</p><p>They made their way towards the room's exit. The next area Strike Team Delta entered was a largely shaped rectangular area with metal beams holding up the ceiling. A thin and rickety table stood in the middle, a bloody chair (equally wobbly as the table) sat pulled out next to its counterpart. Natasha had a few suspicions to what happened to those who sat there.</p><p>Clint crossed the room and kicked over the chair. "This reminds me of that one op we ran back in...I don't know. Few years ago."</p><p>"In Mexico City?"</p><p>"Yeah," Clint said. "I remember being drugged and you had to push me out of a moving truck. How about we maybe <em>not</em> do that this time?"</p><p>"Don't tempt me," Natasha replied sarcastically. She pointed to a car outside the dirty window smudged with grease. "I call shotgun, so you're driving."</p><p>"But that's a glock you're holding!" He complained.</p><p>"Baby."</p><p>"Uh... Nerd! Wait, that didn't make sense..." Clint trailed off. Natasha cocked an eyebrow and smirked, rubbing her temples.  "You okay, Tash?"</p><p>"Mm," she hummed. "Just a headache."</p><p>He begrudgingly got into the vehicle and hot-wired the ignition, starting up the engine with a great big roar. Natasha opened the passenger side door and sat down. She slumped in her seat and put on the seatbelt (’cause safety, of course), making sure Clint did the same. The car veered off from the parking lot and went past the bulky metal warehouse they'd just been in. They drove across the docks, maneuvering their way around large square crates of mismatched colors.</p><p>Once they were on the main road headed back into the local town, evergreen trees and thick shrubbery lined the roadside. Lone pine cones and boulders of varying sizes littered the nature trails, leading up to an array of rolling green hills and beyond that, valleys that stretched across the countryside. A sharpe ozone smell filled the air a few miles from where Clint had originally started driving, and that's when Natasha finally spoke.</p><p>"If there was ever a clone of you that was made...you'd tell me right, Clint?" She ventured quitely.</p><p>"What?" Clint asked incredulously. "I highly doubt that would happen, but yes. Why are you asking this again?"</p><p>"I'm pretty sure you're lying, ’cause there is clearly <em>two</em> of you." Natasha pointed vaguely in the direction of Clint.</p><p>He looked at her eyes and noticed how glossy they appeared. Reaching out, Clint tried to get a feel of her temperature, only to find that it was an obvious case of fever.</p><p>"When we get back to the hotel, I'mma just go to sleep or something."</p><p>Now that Natasha had mentioned it he realized how tired he was.</p><p>"Or eat some more of those funny-tasting-tacos," Clint added.  "Those were so good!"</p><p>Natasha nodded and stared blankly out the front window. "Where'd they even come from again?"</p><p>He shrugged. "They were just <em>there</em>, y'know? I think it's a sign."</p><p>"That makes sense...But I thought that one guy, back in the warehouse, gave us those tacos when we were sitting there."</p><p>Clint frowned. "I think he force-fed us, ’cause I remember biting really hard on his finger."</p><p>A few more minutes and hills passed by before Clint finally slowed the truck to a stop. He looked at his partner and burst out laughing.</p><p>"Your eyes are red!" He gasped. "Like the Red Skull!"</p><p>"That Nazi guy who fought...Wolverine?" Natasha asked, smiling. "Wait, no. It was Hawkeye."</p><p>"Who?"</p><p>"Oo! We should call him once we get back to the hotel. I think our phones are there..."</p><p>"Yeah!" Clint started up the truck again and started driving. They turned left into town and started down the avenue, watching the road signs for any direction towards the hotel. Natasha took his hand and pointed it at the building — merely a four-story place with a red brick roof and white stucco walls that seemed to crumble underneath any touch.</p><p>Parking in the street, Clint and Natasha got out and stumbled into the lobby. The desk lady sitting there gave them a suspicious look and moved her pedicured hand to the phone, grasping it tightly. Clint smiled and waved, which did nothing to ease her. Once out of sight from the front desk, he shoved Natasha into the elevator. She hit her head hard on the wall.</p><p>The assassin laughed. "Barton, I swear—"</p><p>"What are you gonna do, Nat? Kill me?" Clint teased.</p><p>"No," Natasha said, "I'll get Hawkeye to do it for me."</p><p>They pushed the button up to the second floor and wandered aimlessly down the hall. Clint kept pointed at different room numbers, Natasha shaking her head until they reached the very last one. She opened the door and walked in. Clint followed behind her and shut the door, somehow remembering to lock it.</p><p>Natasha rummaged through the safe after successfully typing in the password. She pulled out her phone and clicked on the first name, setting it in between where she and Clint sat on one of the beds.</p><p>It rang for a second before someone said, "Nat? Aren't you on a mission right now?"</p><p>Clint giggled. "Hi, Hawkeye!"</p><p>"Uh, this is <em>Steve</em>. Is Natasha with you—"</p><p>"But then who the fuck is Hawkeye?" The archer asked incredulously. "Fidel Castro? Bruce Wayne? Captain America?"</p><p>"Are you drunk or drugged by any chance? <em>You're</em> Hawkeye!"</p><p>"No! I mean, maybe." Clint scratched his head. "Perhaps."</p><p>"Tony!" Steve shouted to someone in the background. "Hack into S.H.I.E.L.D and find where Clint and Natasha are. Or try and trace her phone."</p><p>"Hold on, Hawkeye," he told Steve. "My stomach needs emptying."</p><p>"Don't hang up!" The soldier said frantically. "Clint, stay with me! Did you eat anything that tasted strange recently? Please...where's Natasha?'</p><p>Clint blinked. "Hm?"</p><p>As if on cue, Natasha groaned from where she now lie on the floor. Clint realized there wasa thick smell of earlier's tacos in the bathroom — also resembling vomit. He realized how dry and chapped his lips were, noticing the same effect with Natasha.</p><p>"You mean the crazy redhead on the floor?"</p><p>"Tony!" Steve urged the man in the background.</p><p>A new voice yelled back, "They're in Canada! Cambridge!"</p><p>Natasha wheezed. "Why is the room spinning?" Her head felt like it would explode at any second. Everything went dark with Clint, Tony, and Steve's yelling all fading out from her mind.</p><p>Soon after, Clint fell to the ground next to her and turned off the phone by accident. The line went dead instantly.</p><p>Tony and Steve, back in the tower, yelled for Bruce and got aboard a quinjet. None of them slept or did anything other than stare at a wall for the entire trip. Tony crossed his fingers that Fury wouldn't call and demand to know why they were suddenly flying out to Ontario, Canada. If so, the answer to the director's question would've a quick hang-up.</p><p>"That's the place right?" Bruce asked.</p><p>Steve nodded. "I'm pretty sure they're drugged, but there could be a hint of poison involved."</p><p>The quinjet landed automatically in a nearby field and Tony double-checked that cloaking was indeed on. Bruce clutched his medical kit firmly in his hands and followed the others towards the hotel building, stepping into the lobby. The desk lady already looked terrified, so she put her hands up and walked straight out of the room when she saw them, saying, "Aaand my break starts now."</p><p>Tony went behind the desk and hacked into the system. He poked a few rooms and looked for any sort of name that could resemble Clint and Natasha, finally spotting <em>Natalie Rushman</em> listed at the end of the second floor. Steve ran up the stairs two at a time and kicked the door in.</p><p>Clint lie on the floor with his head on Natasha's knee, moaning in lightheadedness and pain. Natasha wasn't moving at all, head lolling listlessly on her shoulders without any strength to hold it up any higher.</p><p>While Bruce and Steve set to work on checking pulses and other medical things to help remove the poison, Tony examined the hotel room. There wasn't much there — just a few bags of gear and toiletries — but something would've still had to cause the poisoning, right? He finally pulled out his phone and read the gist of their mission's statement and objective.</p><p>
  <em>Get captured. Collect information while in captivity. Get out and eliminate all hostiles.</em>
</p><p>Tony didn't need to be a genius to figure out what had happened</p>
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